


Harvest Festival

by silence_since_silence



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Body Modification, Canon Era, Costumes, Dubious Consent, Festivals, Gen, Gods, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Magic Made Them Do It, Magic Revealed, Mother-Son Relationship, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Panic, Possession, Post-Magic Reveal, Ritual Sex, Sex Magic, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10801710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silence_since_silence/pseuds/silence_since_silence
Summary: Arthur attends an Ealdor harvest festival with Merlin.





	1. Festival

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Camelot_Drabble](http://camelot-drabble.livejournal.com).
> 
> Inspired by [this lovely art by whimsycatcher](http://whimsycatcher.tumblr.com/post/160280780018).
> 
> Not beta'd.
> 
>  **Notes about the tags:**  
>  —The body modification is temporary.  
> —The dub con _can_ be read as non-con, so **do not read** if that might bother you!

Arthur wanders along Ealdor's main road. His blue cloak drags along the dirt underfoot, but his oversize hood is down.

Arthur nods at the people he passes, but none of them engage him further as they hurry about their preparations. Arthur feels purposeless in this place he does not know with customs he does not want to accidentally offend and without a guide to point him toward a task. Where did Merlin get to?

This street usually hosts a handful of dusty houses with laundry hanging and chickens wandering all around. Tonight, though, is the first night of the harvest festival celebrations. There are tents and stalls set up in bright colors and manned by all kinds of people who live and farm within a few hours walk of Ealdor. There are children running after one another between the legs of adults carrying large baskets.

Arthur spots Merlin's mother standing outside a tent with a bowl in her hands. A familiar face in all of this activity is a welcome sight. He goes to talk with her.

"Hello Arthur," Hunith greets. "Are you enjoying yourself at our little festival?"

"I would hardly call this festival little. Your village street rivals Camelot's market in good weather," Arthur replies.

"Does it, now? Surely your markets are grander, or at least louder with the noise of the rest of the city around them?" she asks.

"They _do_ have a larger collection of extraneous items than I can see here today. And the merchants shout at the people passing by," Arthur elaborates.

"Yes, it is nice to be able to look at the wares made by our neighbors without the shouting that takes place in a market," Hunith agrees. "That might be the greatest benefit to a festival where everyone knows the schedule and their roles."

"Roles?" Arthur asks.

"Everyone knows what is expected of them and when, so they know when they can look at goods and when they are needed for preparations. No one needs to worry about having enough time to do one thing or another because we all volunteer for what we can manage. It's a system that cuts down on the need for shouting," Hunith explains.

A group of four children looking to be between the ages of 6 and 10 run by where Hunith and Arthur are standing. They shout and giggle at each other as they go.

Arthur and Hunith watch them disappear beyond the nearest house, then Hunith turns laughing eyes back to Arthur to say, "Well, less shouting when not accounting for children at play, of course!"

Arthur smiles and then nods in agreement, but a question forms in his mind. He says, "Merlin planned to show me my role, as you put it, for this festival. I'm not sure what I'm meant to be doing, if anything, and I haven't been able to find him anywhere. He hasn't been sent off to gather last minute herbs in the forest, has he?"

"Oh! I didn't realize you hadn't been put to work! Merlin didn't say!" Hunith says. "Come, we can ask him where you're needed." Hunith shifts her bowl from two hands to one. Then she turns to the tent behind her.

Arthur puts out a hand to keep the bowl steady as Hunith draws back the side of the tent, but he looses some of his focus as he sees what is just inside the door. There are four people inside the tent working on what Arthur can only assume are decorations for the festival. Those decorations are all hanging off of a barely clothed Merlin, who looks like he was startled by the tent flap opening.

"Merlin," Hunith chides, "why didn't you say Arthur was wandering around jobless? Poor dear came over like a lost kitten."

Arthur feels his face heat and can only hope the light is too dim for anyone to see him properly.

Merlin tries to turn his head to reply, but the man working on the crown of wheat, berries, leaves, and, of all things, antlers on Merlin's head snaps at him. "I said don't move, boy! Do you want to have to weave this all over again? Because I surely don't!"

"Sorry, Browley," Merlin says to the man. He turns back to his previous position, then says, "Mother, Arthur is meant to be with Astor and Nebwyn. Can you take him there and make sure they'll bring him to the hill with them later?"

"Thank you, dear," Hunith says, and she drops the tent back into place.

Arthur realizes he'd been staring a little too intently at the hands of the woman who was weaving a belt around Merlin's hips. He jumps a little when the tent wall blocks his view once again.

Hunith is already placing her bowl in a safe corner and does not notice Arthur's behavior. When she stands back up, she takes his arm in hers and says, "Come, Arthur dear. Let's bring you to your station. We can still get some work out of you before the show begins."

"The show?" Arthur asks.

"The festival play. Did that boy not tell you anything? I'll have to have words with him about properly orienting our guests," Hunith replies.

 _Festival play..._ Arthur thinks. He says, "Is Merlin getting into costume for the play?"

"Oh yes," Hunith replies. "He'll be a wonderful god of the harvest, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know," says Arthur. "Camelot uses the same players for all our performances. The idea of a new person each year learning lines for something as important as the reenactment of the gods' battle for the harvest is foreign to me. I would be concerned that a bad performance would displease the gods and the land and doom us all."

Hunith looks up at Arthur with a slight furrow of confusion in her brow. She says, "Camelot is indeed different from here. We do not set quite so much importance on the quality of the delivery of lines. It is more important that every one of us looks forward to the harvest festival with anticipation and excitement. The changing of roles from year to year represents the dynamic nature of growth, the land, and all the creatures that live off it. Many of the people here find it fun to participate in the show, and it is seen as a privilege to be asked to portray a named role for the duration."

Arthur wants to hear more, so, to keep Hunith talking about the way the festival plays out in Ealdor, he asks, "So Merlin is to portray the god of the harvest?"

"Yes," she replies. "It is a great honor for Merlin to be chosen to play the part. He will be doubly blessed with good fortune in all his works for the year to come."


	2. Magic

After the performance, and after the dancing and merrymaking, Merlin makes his way back to the tent where he can change back into his clothes. The dancing kept him warm, but he is getting cold now that most of the people have wandered off to bed for the night.

He is inside the tent and about to lift the antlers off his head when he feels a magical tingling come over him.

He pauses and listens for any telling noise from outside, then decides to hurry into his clothes to investigate.

Only, when he then tries to remove the antlers again, he feels them tug too hard against his scalp. With his heart beating faster, he follows their stem down to his hair to try to pull them up from the base. He feels around for the bottom edge, but finds nothing. The antlers are attached to his head.

The antlers are _part of_ his head.

Panic does away with his higher brain functions, and he decides to try to rub the antlers off of himself. He drops down into a crouch against the dirt, bends his head all the way down to the ground, and frantically starts to rub the antlers against the hard ground to try to dislodge them.

The antlers do an effective job of tilling the packed soil, but they do not budge from their place on Merlin's head.

Merlin stops rubbing his head against the ground, but he stays on his hands and knees staring blindly at the dirt beneath him. Frustrated and now dizzy with the rush of fast-moving blood to his head, Merlin feels his eyes prickle with the beginning of tears. He makes no move to wipe them away, and instead lets them fall from his eyes straight to the ground.

After a short while, the prickle in his eyes starts to feel like a burning. Merlin rubs a dirty hand across his dirty face, but the burning stays the same. In his panic, he realizes that this is the same feeling he gets when he casts magic, only that feeling is brief because his eyes light up and then fade quickly when he casts. His eyes must be glowing a constant gold now. He cannot think of any reason for this, and he wonders how he is going to find help when Gaius is back in Camelot and there is nobody else in this town who might be able to help him.

Merlin is just coming to the decision that he should gather his clothes and go hide in his mother's house when he hears the tent flap open.

"Merlin?"

It's Arthur. Relief and panic war within Merlin at the knowledge that Arthur has found him.

"Merlin, I came to see how you were getting-- What are you doing on the ground?" Arthur asks.

"Nothing," Merlin croaks out. His throat is scratchy and his voice is hoarse.

Arthur steps closer. When he drops the tent back into place, Merlin realizes that the cold outside air felt good on his skin. Now that it's closed, Merlin feels too hot.

"Are you alright, Merlin?" Arthur asks. He puts a hand on the back of Merlin's shoulder.

Merlin cries out. With that touch, a swooping and falling feeling blasted through Merlin from the tips of his antlers to the tips of his toes. His eyesight goes fuzzy.

"Merlin?" Arthur sounds very concerned now. "Tell me what's wrong," he commands.

"Arthur," Merlin gasps out.

At that one name spoken, the feelings Merlin is experiencing change from tingling weightlessness to solid awareness. Suddenly, Merlin's body knows exactly what it needs.

Inside his mind, though, Merlin feels like he is not in control of his body; his consciousness watches as his body and mouth move without his approval.

"Arthur," he pleads, "help me."

"What do you need, Merlin?" Arthur asks. "I can go get help," he offers.

The antlers drag slowly along the ground as Merlin's head turns to look at Arthur.

A look of shock manifests on Arthur's face when he sees the golden glow of Merlin's eyes.

Though Merlin is not entirely in control of his physical self, the expression on his face does manage to reflect his pleading and his panic.

"Arthur, please help me," he begs.

Arthur is torn between backing away to protect himself from whatever magic has hold of Merlin and moving closer to help his friend, though he knows not how. He chooses the path of valor and moves closer in a crouch.

"How?" Arthur asks.

Lightning quick, Merlin's hand darts out to grab Arthur's wrist. Merlin's hand squeezes tighter as he feels himself swell between his legs. He reaches full hardness in seconds.

"Ow! Merlin, that hurts," Arthur says. The grip on his wrist is more bone-crushing than he would have imagined possible from Merlin.

Merlin does not pay him any attention. Instead, he pulls Arthur's arm toward the white cloth covering his groin. He positions Arthur's hand against himself there.

Arthur tries to pull his arm back, but Merlin's grip is unbreakable. "This is not what I was thinking, Merlin!" Arthur says hotly.

Merlin pants out heavy breaths. He turns his head more to look Arthur in the eye. "Please, Arthur," he begs.

Though Merlin's eyes are glowing gold with an unknown magical force and overly glassy to the point that he looks like he could be slightly feverish, Arthur knows Merlin well enough to see the terror behind all the magic.

Arthur knows that to participate in a magical bonding in any way will mark him and Merlin, but he can't leave his friend in such distress. He makes his decision, and he can only hope that this marking will not ruin their futures.


	3. Relief

Arthur takes hold of Merlin through the cloth with the hand in Merlin's grip. That grip falls away as Merlin's hand finds the ground again for support.

Without letting go, Arthur positions himself behind Merlin and to the side to get a better angle.

Arthur tries to let go to move the cloth that was Merlin's only clothing for the performance, but he finds that he can't let go. It seems that he entered into a contract that will force him to see it through. So, he gets closer and brings his other hand around the other side of Merlin's waist so he can pull the cloth up and back. The magic allows this.

Once Arthur has a grip of skin on skin, he moves his hand down and back in the way he usually does for himself. He slowly loosens his grip on Merlin as he goes to allow the flesh to bunch and stretch and do some of the work.

Merlin responds well to Arthur's tactics. Arthur has Merlin pushing into Arthur's fist in just a few minutes.

They seem to stall in their jerking and thrusting motions for a while. Merlin is panting heavily like he wants to finish but can't, and Arthur is focused on helping Merlin although he is not unaffected.

Arthur isn't sure what the magic is going to require, so he changes his position so that he can get his mouth around Merlin.

Merlin cries out and jerks harshly inside Arthur's mouth. Arthur expects to choke, but Merlin spills no seed. Merlin's hips have regained their rhythm, and he continues to thrust into Arthur's mouth.

Arthur's jaw begins to ache, and he tries to get out from under Merlin. Because he's against the ground and Merlin is out of his head with lust, it takes several more thrusts before Arthur can manage to grip Merlin's length with one hand and shove his hips far enough away with the other, though. He coughs a few times and then scoots out from under Merlin to get back to his earlier position.

There is more jerking, thrusting, moaning, panting, heated air, sweaty skin, and urges coming from himself that Arthur still doesn't want to address, and still the magic that has hold of Merlin has not been satisfied.

Arthur gets an idea to help push Merlin to finish. He keeps jerking Merlin with one hand while he reaches the other down to try to squeeze the release out of Merlin's balls. He gets a good grip, and then slowly clenches his hand down around them.

Merlin's panting turns to short moans that get slightly louder as Arthur's grip gets tighter and tighter. As Arthur thinks he's going to crush Merlin if he goes any further, his efforts finally pay off. Merlin's release this time spurts and spills out of him, and Arthur does his best to direct it at the ground.

Merlin's motions come to a halt, and Arthur hopes that this means the magic is satisfied.

Merlin lifts his head slightly, and the antler crown slips down toward the ground. Merlin brings a shaking arm up to pull it off, and it slides the rest of the way off and lands in the dirt.

With a choked-off laugh, Merlin falls over onto his side on the ground.


	4. Merlin

Arthur stays in his crouch and watches Merlin's closed eyelids for any sign of gold glowing there. He sees nothing, and relaxes back onto his heels.

"Merlin?" Arthur asks. "How do you feel?"

Merlin opens one eye to look at Arthur. A flush rises on his cheeks, but he says, "Better," and it comes out strong. "Thank you, Arthur," he adds. He closes his eyes again.

"Do you know what that was?" Arthur asks.

A pause, then, "No," Merlin admits.

"I believe it was a contract of sorts, though I don't know why it happened or who benefits from its outcome," Arthur says.

Merlin thinks for a moment, then says, "I think it was the god of the harvest preparing the earth for the next year. Sow the seeds, and all that. We're meant to do the offerings tomorrow."

"I've never heard of something like this happening to a human before, though," Arthur says. "Play acting is one thing. This was more like the drunken rituals of old, except without the drink to blame."

Merlin looks at Arthur again. His gaze is measuring, but there is an element of trust in it born from the knowledge that Arthur would help him through this kind of need.

"I think I know how this happened to us, or at least to me," Merlin says. He looks back down at the crown of wheat, berries, leaves, and antlers lying on the ground. He puts a hand out in front of him. " _Forbearnán_ ," he says.

Arthur sees Merlin's eyes flash gold briefly. Then his attention turns to the crown, which is now on fire.

They both watch as the bones crack and the crown turns to ash over the tilled and seeded soil.

"There," Merlin whispers. "That's the first offering finished."

" _Mer_ lin," Arthur scolds.

Merlin sighs.

"Merlin, what... Wh... How..." Arthur can't seem to choose a question. He finally settles on, "What are you doing in Camelot when you have magic?"

"It was the only place we knew of where I could learn to control it," he says.

Arthur can tell there's more to the story than that simple answer. "And?" he asks.

"And...." Merlin takes a deep breath. "And then I met you, and learned about a path I could take. I went there to learn about myself. I stayed there, where, you're right, it's not safe, because I can better help you live to become king one day if I am there when something bad happens. You're going to be a great king, Arthur, and I want to see you and Camelot get that chance."

Arthur stares at Merlin and does not reply.

Merlin looks Arthur in the eye and continues, "My magic is for you, Arthur. It is of the land, and the land wants you." His gaze turns inward. "I think that's how this all happened just now. I must have tempted the gods by wearing the costume at the right time. If you wish, take your participation as a metaphor for good fortune to come."

"Your mother said nearly the same thing when I came by here earlier," Arthur says.

Merlin smiles. "Then that is the second time she has commented on us with a phrase that magic has chosen to have someone else say, too. Though the first time was in a different order."

Arthur thinks over what Merlin has said while Merlin finally sits up.

"Alright. Time to get my clothes back on," Merlin says.

"Yes, that wheat belt was rather scratchy on my forehead. Probably best to go back to cloth," Arthur quips.

They both freeze.

Merlin stares at Arthur.

Arthur feels his unfulfilled urges snap back to attention. He looks at an interesting corner of the tent.

Merlin clears his throat and says, "You know... if you want... even when we're back in Camelot... if you want to... I... but if you don't want, then that's--"

"Merlin," Arthur regains his composure and cuts him off. "Quit your babbling."

"Yes, sire," Merlin sighs, and he sounds a little dejected.

Arthur stands up and offers Merlin a hand. "We'll discuss it when we're home." He pulls Merlin up, but doesn't let go of his hand. Quietly, he says, "I do want."

Merlin smiles at him.


End file.
